


small worlds

by hailholylight



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Clothed Sex, Collars, Degradation, Dom/sub, Double Penetration, Group Sex, Hand Jobs, Lots of Cum, Lots of spit, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Rentboy Will Graham, Rough Sex, Sadism, Spitroasting, consent is lowkey given beforehand but it's kinda sketchy, cumslut will graham, like an unrealistic amount of orgasms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:46:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24585559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hailholylight/pseuds/hailholylight
Summary: The waiter came over and filled Will's wine glass. "A rather sweet red," Lecter said, "In hopes that we start on a good note." He raised his glass, and Will responded with as much grace as he could muster. The man in front of him didn't seem the type to let little details go, so Will tried to act intentionally, thoughtfully. He found himself wanting to impress Lecter.The wine lingered on his tongue long after he had swallowed. "Mm. Is that why you requested twenty-four hours of my time? Scarcity?""Partly," he replied, taking his own sip and closing his eyes.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 123





	small worlds

**Author's Note:**

> fair warning: Hannibal does some sketchy things in this fic, and just like he shouldn't be taken as a guide to morality in the show, he shouldn't be taken as a healthy participant in BDSM. Always practice intricate and sane consent.

Will was told that this month's client was likely a complete sadist. Usually, his managers said this to mean that he would have a need for control and would be absolutely insufferable the entire night. Will entered the restaurant, which was the choice of the client, and saw a dozen possible sadists, most of which were men, and only a few of which were the type to hire him, but his intuition couldn't land on any of them. Will pulled back the sleeve of his dress shirt and looked at his watch. He was on time. He asked the host if there was a Lecter, having only been given his last name. The host nodded, a passive apathy in his eye, and offered to walk Will over to the table, his voice brittle and cold.

He scanned the restaurant on the way towards the back of the building. It was normal fare, the kind of flashy place that men who hired Will liked to go so they could show off their wealth, or influence, or whatever other aspects made them feel worthwhile. Will would expect a 50 or 60-year-old man, married, probably with kids, too much money to spend, and a fascination with the youth that was ripped away from him-- Obsessed with the life he never got to lead. He would ask Will if he was in university, if he's ever had boyfriends, if his family and friends knew what he did for work. Will would twist his lips into a patient smile at his crass jokes, accompany him to his hotel of choice, and then go home feeling stale and in need of strong mouthwash. It would be his usual date. He would consider throwing his career to the wolves. He wouldn't. The past four years spoke to that. Will always ended up coming back, even after the worst, most tedious dates. 

Will's line of thinking crashed the moment he saw Lecter. He was maybe only in his mid-forties. He wore a light blue checkered suit, gold tie, gold handkerchief, chestnut dress shoes. He stood upon seeing Will, extended his hand with a professional smile. Will took it, looking him up and down. He didn't see a sadist standing in front of him. He saw an easy grip on dignity. He saw a man with equal footing. 

They sat down across from each other, and Lecter ordered three courses for Will without a single glance over to him. He wasn't looking for approval or validation from Will, he was controlling for the selfish pleasure it brought him. Will squinted and could see his polished surface slip. He had him. And he understood perfectly what made him seem like a sadist. A god complex multiplied by good taste. He could've very well been the sick and perverted middle-aged man Will had grown accustomed to, but he was miles better at hiding it when surrounded by polite society. 

"Will Graham," Lecter smiled, "You're quite difficult to book."

"Am I?"

He nodded, "I've been trying to get an appointment with you for a few months now. You've always been incredibly busy."

Will hadn't been busy, or at least hadn't been any busier than he normally was. "I try to only have appointments once a month-- Otherwise, I tend to get," he licked his bottom lip, "overwhelmed."

The waiter came over and filled Will's wine glass. "A rather sweet red," Lecter said, "In hopes that we start on a good note." He raised his glass, and Will responded with as much grace as he could muster. The man in front of him didn't seem the type to let little details go, so Will tried to act intentionally, thoughtfully. He found himself wanting to impress Lecter. 

The wine lingered on his tongue long after he had swallowed. "Mm. Is that why you requested twenty-four hours of my time? Scarcity?"

"Partly," he replied, taking his own sip and closing his eyes. 

Will couldn't decide if he was intimidated by Lecter or absolutely hated him. He considered being both. He looked at Lecter, tried to absorb the kind of person he was, but he kept seeing fractures of personalities all refracting together. A kaleidoscope spirit. Lecter opened his eyes, and Will felt like a child being caught doing something he shouldn't have. He looked down into his wine, watched how it swirled when he tipped the glass forward and then back, made a small note of how easily Lecter stared at him, how he leaned the smallest bit in, smiled openly. Lecter was not one to hide his feelings, but he was hiding something under all those shattered fragments. 

Will took another sip, long and slow, then set his glass down, elegantly, on the table. 

"You don't usually have clients request so much of your time."

Will shook his head, "No. My clients are usually... Desperate. Repressed. They're controlling, but not very confident in themselves."

Lecter sat back in his chair, "Is that what you expected from me?"

Will looked up at him, allowing himself a small smile, "From the picture they painted of you, yes."

"And what sort of picture was that?"

Will inhaled, lowered his eyelids, "A cynical one."

Lecter smiled. "I hope I've dispelled it, then."

Their first course was brought out and placed quietly in front of them, the waiters practically invisible. Lecter dipped his spoon into his bowl, inspecting the small amount of vibrant red soup for a moment before placing it in his mouth, closing his eyes as to focus. His eyebrows raised for the smallest moment, a small tilt to his head. 

"I rarely eat out," he said, "It's rarely worth it when I could be cooking in my own kitchen."

"You cook?" Will asked, reaching for his own spoon. 

Lecter nodded, meeting Will's eyes, "Every day, every meal. I'm very intentional with what I put in my mouth."

Will could feel his own pulse, restive and uprising. He felt captured, like a small mouse by an eagle, a snake. 

Lecter broke eye contact, a proud expression across his face. "I would've invited you to my home if I had been able to. Cooked for you."

The way he said it got under Will's skin, which Will hadn't experienced in such a long time. It wasn't entirely uncomfortable, he noted. 

\-- 

Lecter paid the bill in full, less as a way to show off, Will proposed, and more as a token of appreciation, an extension of himself as though he himself, his presence, his assets, were a gift on their own. He didn't act like he had anything to prove, like Will was some dumping ground for all of his reasons to live.

"I have somewhere I'd like us to visit after here."

"Mm. I would hope so."

Lecter's reserved smile burst into something much more genuine. "It's a sort of club. Not a polite one, by any means."

Will hadn't known that there was such a thing as a polite club. "Should I have packed a second outfit?"

Lecter shook his head, obscenely amused. The waiter returned with Lecter's credit card. They rose and Lecter led them out the building with a hand on the small of Will's back. Lecter drove his own car, rather than having a driver. "First," he said, starting the engine, "I think we should lay a few ground rules. Limits, if you will."

"My manager should've--"

"Yes, they did. I'd still like to hear some things for myself."

The car started moving forward and Will watched the restaurant leave his view from the car window. "What sort of things do you have in mind?" he asked, turning away from the window and towards Lecter. 

Unflinching: "I'd like to own you for the night. Completely. I'd like to know your limits so you can let go, so you can trust me. And so I can know where to push and where it's too much."

"If you have to ask, I'd say it's too much."

Lecter grinned, "What's the scene that pushed you the most, then?"

Will paused, looked into the distance, "I'd say... One time I was booked for about eight hours. Client kept me in this one room, blindfolded, for a few hours. Couldn't hear anything but my own breathing." He bit his lip. "Ended up screaming for him to come back." 

"And did you ask to stop once he did?" 

"No," he said, leaning his flushed cheek on his hand, focusing on the trees that passed them by. 

"Why not?"

Will inhaled deeply, "I had a feeling that's the exact response he wanted."

"The screaming? You stayed because you gave him what he wanted?"

"I stayed because it was clear he was in control, not malicious, not cruel, just a bit twisted and a bit curious."

"Did you enjoy the rest of the time you spent with him?"

Will grinned despite himself, "He was one of my favorite clients."

Lecter made a sharp turn. "Was."

Will nodded, "He became, mm... Too involved. Started thinking he really did have some claim over me. Said he knew I was in love with him and just didn't know how to show it."

Lecter replied with a sharp exhale. "Attached too many strings."

"Made me feel like a puppet, yeah, like I couldn't do anything without him somehow watching me."

"Not the ideal kind of possession."

"Definitely not the _Eros_ he thought it was."

Lecter chuckled, "I can imagine not. It still didn't turn you away from the profession."

Will shrugged, "I'm more or less comfortable in this job," he said, a speech he's made a thousand times before, "And for all the shit it's put me through, I've made plenty connections to make up for it." 

"I'm not judging you for your choices, Will, quite the opposite. You've obviously thought about your choice before you even made it, and reassessed as often as you need to. I admire the... intentionality."

"Hm." Will looked him over, trying to see any betrayal of the words he was saying, "You're a psychiatrist, right?"

Lecter gifted another smile, "Yes."

"You have a unique name. First and last."

"And yet you haven't used my first name, despite knowing it."

"You asked me not to."

Lecter made a small breath of a noise and then went quiet. The silence wasn't uncomfortable or awkward but rather had Will wondering about the people close to Lecter, the people who loved him, if there were any. He didn't have a ring on his finger, Will noticed, and he didn't carry around the shame that Will was used to seeing in his other clients. Lecter himself seemed a complete departure from his other clients. Will noticed that more and more the longer he was with him. 

They arrived at the club in one piece, the building itself being a hole-in-the-wall, hard to find place. Lecter led Will by the hand and he still didn't notice the door until it was opened for him. He ushered Will in with a now familiar hand on his back. The carpet was a vibrant red, made dim in the low lights, but stunning nonetheless. The bar was golden, sparkling, with a man behind the counter wearing a white mask that only covered the top half of his face. A mask of his own was quickly being shoved into Will's hands. “Anonymity is required,” Lecter whispered in Will's ear.

"I have no problem with that."

Lecter pressed a kiss to Will's temple, "Wonderful. Let's get a drink, mm?"

He led Will over to the bar, ordered two cocktails, and took a seat, eyeing the stool next to him. He only looked satisfied once Will sat down with him.

"I have one more subject I'd like to discuss," Lecter said, crossing his legs.

Will looked over his shoulder, saw dozens of people in masks milling about, laughing and winking and knee-deep in the joy of being alive. Will had never seen so hedonistic a place and he was only in the front room, unaware of what the hallways and doors led to. 

"I want to reiterate that I won't do anything to hurt you. Permanently anyway."

"Mm. That sure puts me at ease."

Lecter chuckled, "I just don't want you to think I have bad intentions."

"I don't mind bad intentions," Will said, accepting a drink from the bartender. 

Lecter accepted his own, an amused and affectionate expression laid over him. "My point is-- I want to have you complete trust for the night. Anything I say, goes."

"I suggest a safe word. Lamb?"

He nodded, "Of course. Does that mean you're willing?"

"As much as I can be," Will said. He shot a glance to Lecter, a small smirk. 

"Wonderful. Stay here, mm?"

Will nodded, returning his attention to his drink as Lecter got up and slipped into the crowd. Will wasn't quite sure what he had gotten himself into. He had never been to a place like this, especially not with a client. He spent a large amount of his time at discreet motels and large stuffy dinner parties. He was used to repression, whispered remarks, men living out fantasies of hiding in plain sight. Lecter, as he kept reminding himself, was an entirely different monster. 

Will felt a brush of contact on the back of his neck, went to spin his head around when a hand was placed firmly on his shoulder. 

"Stay still. Just letting them know that you're claimed." He wrapped a choker around Will's neck, complete with a padlock in the front. Lecter turned him around, key in hand, and locked it. 

"Collars are their own language. I took it upon myself to find you one with a lock."

Will ran his fingers over the metal, smooth and cold. The fabric was black, comfortable, leather; it was breathable and more or less flexible despite its thickness and width.

"I've worn a couple."

"In front of others? I have a feeling your typical monthly appointment is a bit quieter."

Will clenched his jaw.

Lecter's expression dipped into sadistic. He held Will by the back of his neck and then slid his hand into Will's hair, pulling him off the stool and pushing him through the crowd. 

"Now, I have a few tasks for you. If you do then well, I might reward you. Understood?"

Will nodded, trying to find his balance despite being endlessly pushed forward. 

"Sorry?"

Will blinked hard, "Yes, sir."

"Perfect. You're already well-trained."

Will smiled despite himself as he was led into a back room. It was a much more tense, heavy energy where they ended up. Doors lined the hall, some half open with women leaning out of them, naked and whispering, stretching along the doorway, grinning like wolves. Lecter pushed past them to the end of the hallway. He stopped Will in front of it. "Open."

Will reached for the doorknob. He pushed it open and saw an empty room except for a chair and a bare mattress. Very charming. Lecter pushed him in without hesitation. Will fell to his hands and knees, his forehead hitting the mattress. He had no time to collect himself before hands were all over him, more than one pair, pulling his clothes off him and discarding them. His hair was pulled, his body lifted and dropped onto the mattress face down, hands were on his cock, and the shock mixed with sharp pleasure. He couldn't get a look at who was touching him, using him, but he knew Lecter wasn't part of the group-- he was in the chair about seven feet away from him. Will heard his voice raise above the panting and grunting. 

"Don't break him yet. Slowly, boys."

Will didn't feel them respond very much. He was very quickly naked and spread on the mattress, his hands pinned above his head by one man, his legs kept apart by another. He heard a spitting noise, then felt a wetness against his hole and then a searing pain. Someone grabbed his jaw and shoved his head upwards, their cock pressed against Will's lips. He opened as wide as he could, made all the space he could. Another cock was shoved into his ass alongside the first and everything blurred together as one. Will couldn't think straight, his body taken over, offered to anyone who was willing to use it. They fucked him without pause, without an ounce of questioning-- all of their force behind each thrust. He felt tears prick his eyes but he couldn't say whether or not he was actually crying, he couldn't say or think much at all. He felt split open from the inside out.

His eyes rolled into the back of his head, his hands grabbing the mattress with everything he had, but as he was fucked into it, his grip loosened. His entire body relaxed. All three men came inside him or his mouth, and Will didn't say a word against it. They pulled back, leaving him empty and close to sobbing purely from sensory overload when he felt more pairs of hands on him. One pulling his hair and sticking their fingers in his mouth, another holding his hips, pushing his back into an arch, another jerking him off. He gagged, squirmed, kicked at nothing, but he was held in place. His safeword was in the back of his mind, but he found no urge to say it. He came into the stranger's hand without notice and without thought. 

The second group was replaced by a third, one man biting Will's shoulder hard enough for him to yell out. Lecter chastised the man with no real passion behind his words. Will was left a mess, cum covering his face, pooling around his thighs. He figured this was it, surely there couldn't be more, when he was lifted off the mattress and spun around, placed on his knees, two cocks shoved into his hands, another in his mouth. He closed his eyes, feeling tears off his face and onto his chest, but he couldn't think about anything else than being a cumslut for whoever wanted him. 

This round came exclusively on Will's chest, cum dripping onto his stomach and thighs. And right when Will accepted that this might go on indefinitely, that there would always be another group, another set of hands, they left the room and all that remained was Lecter, arms and legs crossed, grinning down at Will. He stood, took a few slow steps towards Will, but didn't come close enough to touch him. "I did tell them to go slowly, didn't I? I did try."

Will couldn't do much but whine. He almost felt ashamed, and he most definitely felt vulnerable. There was an acknowledgment between the both of them that Will could've stopped it, but he didn't. If it was too much, if he didn't enjoy it, all he had to do was say the word. He allowed himself to be used, covered, left. 

"Maybe we should try again. Actually take it slower. Are you okay on your knees?" Lecter asked, not seeming to care very much about Will's answer one way or another. 

Lecter waved from the doorway to Will. Another man, defined muscles, pale skin, short, dark hair, came in. Will could only imagine how he looked to him. He stepped on the mattress, grabbed Will's hair, and pulled his head back with his other hand holding his cock. Will opened his mouth, and the sensation of being filled was beyond pleasurable this time around, an oasis in miles of desert. He moved his head and his hands eagerly, accepted the man eagerly. He closed his eyes and let autopilot take over. The man was soon fucking into Will's mouth, Will's hands, covered in spit, moved to his hips, letting the rhythm wash over him. The mano pushed as much as he could down Will's throat, and with a coarse man, came hard. Will immediately gagged, shoving cum up and out his nose, a burning sensation quickly following. He fell back, coughing and sputtering, wiped his face but only succeeded in making a bigger mess. The man grabbed Will's face and moved him back onto his cock. He closed his eyes, pushing on the man's stomach and hips, but all of his efforts falling short. 

He heard footsteps behind him, then a familiar accent. "You still find some sort of fight within you. I admire that. You should know it's useless. Hold him by the collar. Remind him that he's owned."

He listened, yanking Will forward, forcing his cock deeper. Lecter didn't touch him at all, and Will was aching for it. He could feel how hard his own cock was, his legs going weak, every part of him throbbing. He was sobbing by now, overwhelmed, and touch-starved. The man let go, pushed him back; he grabbed his jaw, and kissed him hard, then walked out of the room. Will was left, tears cutting through the spit and cum on his face, with Lecter behind him. Lecter took a step away from him, staring down like he had never seen anything more disgusting. Will blinked fast, tried to control himself. He felt an insuppressible urge to be enough, to be praised. Lecter didn't give an inch. 

"Tell me what you're thinking."

Will turned around to face Lecter, still on his knees, "B-Belong to you." He stared down, trying to find words for the miles of thoughts that rushed through him, "Want-- Want you to touch me."

Lecter grinned. "I don't know if you've quite earned that."

Will whimpered, reaching out to grip Lecter's shirt. "Please."

"Mm. Unzip."

Will nodded, on the verge of sobbing again, and pulled Lecter's zipper down, unbuttoned his pants, and moved them down around his thighs. There was no moment of pause-- Will took Lecter's cock, already hard, and let it slide across his tongue. Lecter didn't touch him at all, only occasionally sighing or saying Will's name, and Will felt outside of himself, not shocked, not distressed, but floating, consumed in his mindset. He moved slowly at first, but soon he couldn't help himself. He took at much of Lecter as he could, ignoring the urge to gag, ignoring the need for air. 

Lecter slipped his hand into Will's hair and pushed him back, and Will found himself leaning into the touch, laying his hands over Lecter's. That sadistic glean returned, a revelation of how much control he had, how easy it was to break Will and how accepting he was of it. Lecter yanked him backwards going to his knees as Will fell onto his back. The next moment, Lecter's fingers were inside Will. They moved relentlessly, curling upwards. Will could hardly keep himself together, and after a few moments, he came again, all over himself, whining and crying and wanting nothing else but Lecter inside of him. He pulled on his hand, scratched his arm, kissed his wrist, but Lecter never once changed his pace. He kept going until Will was arching against the mattress, near screaming from the overstimulation. 

Another orgasm, taut and short, forced itself out of Will. He nearly shook apart, his ribs too small to hold his sobbing lungs. He wanted a break and he wanted Lecter to keep doing whatever he wanted to him. A familiar pain struck through him. Lecter was on top of him, moving into him so slowly Will swore he was primarily getting off on causing pain. _Sadist._ Will whined, loud and animalistic. He was reduced down to the basest of thoughts, to the basest of instincts. Time felt expendable, all of it curling at his fingertips, bunching, and expanding, and falling apart. A minute felt like both a second and an hour. He was impossible to place. 

Lecter fucked into him with a certain hunger, a certain letting go. Will found himself enjoying it equally-- being used, having his own pleasure ignored in lieu of Lecter taking, and taking, and taking. He bit Will's neck, sucked a livid mark onto his skin, held Will's forearm above his head hard enough to leave his fingernails imprinted. His rhythm quickened along with his breath. Hannibal was just as vulnerable as Will, covered in cum, and spit, and submission. This was Hannibal's basest of mindsets. Will couldn't stop thinking about how beautiful it looked.

All of him was sore, but he reveled in the thought of having some sort of record, no matter how temporary, of this night, of this moment. Locked against a bare mattress and a man who wasn't all that concerned with his comfort but with a guttural sort of pleasure. Driven to perhaps his farthest point and fucked apart. 

"Perfect cumslut."

Lecter came with a muttered curse and a delicate sigh, with his hand wrapped around Will's throat. He came slow and easy, in no rush and with no doubt. His grip stayed firm on Will's neck for a moment, making him dizzy, making the edges of his vision go fuzzy. Lecter dipped his head low, and for a moment all he did was breathe. In the next, he got up, collected himself, and sat back in his chair-- legs crossed. He could feel Lecter's grin burning into him. He could feel his gaze, the power of his eyes stroking every available inch of skin. He felt entirely held, possessed, coveted. He felt golden, like sunlight was leaking out of him. He reached up and hooked his fingers in his collar.

His eyes glazed over, he could only find a select few words: "Never been like that before." He turned his head and Lecter had the most victorious expression-- one of a hunter who had caught his prey. 

**Author's Note:**

> howdy girls and gays, hope you had fun reading more of my relentlessly horny thoughts and prayers. I stayed up half the night and then woke up and spent most of the afternoon editing this fic. As much as I wish i had a normal, maybe human sleep schedule and work pattern, I never do, lol. hope this fic was a decent escape from the hell-world that is going on across the world rn. hope you're taking care of yourself.
> 
> feel free to leave comments and kudos, I cherish all of them. <3


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